A.N. Wow. The last chapter. I can't believe I've actually finished something. Thank you, everyone who reviewed and read; you're awesome, and I hope you've enjoyed the story as much as I have.

Crossing the Line

Chapter Twelve

This had not been a good day for Steven Caldwell. Any day that started with him being infected by malevolent nanites was not, in his mind, a good day; then, while everyone else had been figuring out the virus, he had been called away to rescue a team that had been stranded and pinned down by some wraith. It was several hours there and back, and by the time he docked on Atlantis they had figured out the planet and sent Sheppard and some others to try and sort things out. He had just sat down in Elizabeth's office when Beckett came running in: the patients' condition had stopped deteriorating, and one of the ones infected latest had regained consciousness. Caldwell was off before he stopped speaking, sprinting towards the Daedalus and barking orders into his mouthpiece.

It was a short trip to the planet - only lasted about four minutes before the Daedalus jumped into orbit. Steven looked at his helmsman as they drifted above the planet.

"Picking up Sheppard and nine other transmitters to the south of us. . .and Major Lorne and another about a mile east of those."

"Take us over them, Sergeant." Steven thought for a moment and tapped his earpiece. "Dr. Beckett to the bridge - we're picking up the team."

"We're right over Sheppard's nine, sir. Life signs are strong." The sergeant smiled at him and Beckett, who was leaning on his chair.

Steven sighed in relief. "Beam them up."

With a white flash of light Sheppard and the others appeared on the bridge: they were all in defensive positions and had their guns out, though fortunately they weren't firing, and a few of them seemed to have some minor injuries - Radek's left arm was in a sling, Peters and Riley both had cuts on their foreheads, and Rodney and Sheppard were sporting slight burns and bruises on their arms.

Beckett ran over and started fussing over Radek's arm while Sheppard stood up and wobbled his way over to his CO.

"Right on time, sir. Lorne and Schweinsteigger?"

Steven quirked his lips in a smile. "We should be beaming them up right now - sergeant?"

The helmsman tapped something into his computer and spoke without lifting his eyes from the screen. "Their transmitters are on but their life-signs - I can't find them to-" he moved aside as Rodney came up behind him and, wincing from the blisters on his hands, typed something.

"I can't see the - oh, there they are. Their life signs are weak, though; maybe there's some interference from the caves? I can't-" He typed some more and made a 'hmm'ing noise. "Beaming them up - now."

Steven sucked in his breath as they appeared, and all else fell silent on the bridge.

Carson Beckett was used to having badly injured people brought to him without a moment's notice. With Sheppard's team on Atlantis, you had to get used to it - either that or go insane. It was amazing working here - encountering medical problems no one had ever seen, saving dozens of lives that would otherwise have been lost; it was the chance of a lifetime, and he was grateful to have had the opportunity to come here. But sometimes it was just as difficult as it was wonderful. Sometimes you couldn't save everyone; sometimes they caught you unawares, came in the midst of celebration - the stupid, often senseless deaths of men and women who should have had decades longer to live.

It was like this, now; he had been so relieved to see Sheppard and the others alive, without any serious injuries. Having to look at Radek's broken arm was a pleasure, considering he wasn't doing Radek's autopsy. He had been euphoric, almost -- and then Rodney had beamed the others on board.

He froze, completely, for a second, forgetting he was a doctor, forgetting he should go to them, just stood there staring at them, the euphoria draining out of him rapidly.

The lieutenant was sprawled on her back, her left arm twisted strangely at the shoulder blade, her hair and right shoulder covered in blood. Major Lorne lay, spread-eagled, perpendicular to her, his head and shoulders resting on her stomach. His BDUs, had been forest green when he started out; now his shirt was colored a dull red with blood that, mixing with the rain, was leaving a puddle on the floor of the bridge.

It took Carson a second or two to process it, and he froze - but only for a second. Then his brain started working again and he was at their side, putting his fingers to the major's throat and feeling for a pulse, moving to the lieutenant and doing the same. He looked up at Sheppard and Rodney.

"They're alive - barely." He grabbed a knife tucked into the colonel's boot and started cutting of the major's shirt while as he talked into his mouthpiece and at the ones standing around him. "I need them moved to the infirmary - we need to jump to Atlantis, now; can't move him much - I'll operate on board. I'll need an anesthesiologist and two nurses to assist." Carson looked up; everyone still seemed frozen in place. "Do you want them to die? I said move, now!"

Rodney grabbed her feet, so Danny Bergher was left picking her up by the shoulders. He sucked in his breath as his hands brushed against her face. She was cold, so cold. He walked backwards, following Sheppard and Beckett's voices as they carried Lorne, on a stretcher, to the infirmary. The ship jolted as they jumped into hyper drive; they should dock at Atlantis in a few minutes. There would be another doctor there, one of Beckett's subordinates who wasn't harmed by the nanites - she could come on board and work on Anna-Patricia while Beckett dealt with Lorne. He only hoped it would be enough. Lorne might be a bit worse, sure - but Anna-Patricia wasn't looking all that great; she could easily die, he knew it, and he wished there was something -- anything -- he could do to save her.

They had grown close during her time here. He was the only civilian on a gun-obsessed team, and she, although an airman, acted enough like a civilian that they could share common interests, chatter about the significance of this find or that. Not to mention that her knowledge of linguistics came quite handy when he was in anthropologist mode. She was sort of like a younger sister to him, and he had been so happy to see that she and the major were falling for each other. They made such a good team, she and the major did, whether it was on the field or in the kitchen. It was just nice to see something like that happen on Atlantis, a relationship like that rather than just another one strained from stress or broken by death.

But now. . .he sighed as he and Rodney set her down on a bed in the infirmary. Now, he thought as one of the nurses shut the curtains around her and shunted him away, now things weren't quite so simple anymore.

Rodney sat next to Katie on the couch in her quarters, her head on his knee. It was so good to have her back. Carson said it would take a few more days for her to recover her usual strength, but for the most part -- barring a propensity for taking catnaps such as this one -- she seemed about back to normal, even insisting on working in the lab today. He grinned; amazing how she could recover in so short a time. If only the others had been so lucky; nine dead from the nanites, and now Marcus Lorne was lying in a coma in the infirmary. By all rights he should be dead - and the lieutenant with him, but that didn't make it any easier, did it? If only they could-

Hmmm, knocking. Who could it be at this hour? Maybe one of Katie's lab assistant's? Yes, they had probably finished running the simulations on that plant-growth program he had designed for her - with any luck, the plants would-

"Lieutenant?" Rodney froze as the door opened to reveal a disheveled, exhausted-looking, but still recognizable Anna-Patricia Schweinsteigger.

"I'm sorry - I thought Katie was alone. I'll just-"

Rodney put out a hand to steady her as she wobbled, dizzily, against the doorframe. She looked terrible; Beckett wouldn't have let her leave the infirmary like this. Well, the least he could do was bring her in and give her a cup of tea. Not like he was doing anything at the moment. Well, unless you counted watching Katie sleep.

He waited until she was seated comfortably at the table before saying anything. She looked. . .sad.

"Should you be out of the infirmary?" Oh, smart one Rodney. Maybe next time he could just take-

"Major Lorne's worse." She stared at the table, her finger tracing figure eights on it slowly. "He flatlined several minutes ago. Beckett brought him back, but he said there wasn't anything else he could do. . .just wait and see." She looked up at him blankly. "I love him, you know."

Rodney reached out and, for lack of other comfort, silently patted her hand.

Beeping.

Low, rhythmic, insistent beeping; it was actually kind of soothing.

Dead? Didn't feel like it. . . . Probably - ah, yeah, antiseptics. Infirmary? Wow.

Nice temperature. 75, maybe. Normally he would have preferred it cooler, but this felt just right.

A smooth cloth covering him -- light, comfortable. Good bed sheet.

And there was something heavy lying on his chest, something comfortably heavy lying on his chest.

Marcus cracked open his eyes tentatively.

Hmm, that was interesting.

Schweinsteigger was slumped in a chair next to his bed. Her head, heavily bandaged and with - hmm, those were small - stitches spreading back from her forehead to beyond her ear on the right side, lay on his chest. She was, though seemingly asleep, cupping his right hand with her left. Her right arm -- like his left -- was held up in a sling; her right shoulder looked bulky under her t-shirt: probably bandages.

These pillows were uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Maybe if he just shifted his-

Oh, that was painful. You know, maybe the pillows weren't quite that uncomfortable. Nope, not that uncomfortable at all. In fact, he rather liked them this-

"Major?"

Oh no, he'd woken her up -- and she looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"Major?" She dropped his hand, pressed a button on the side of his bed, and, her eyes glistening, ran a hand over his forehead, through his head. "Marcus?"

He smiled at her. God, he was tired. Maybe he could go back to sleep now. After all, he'd already said hello. Hadn't he? Maybe he'd forgotten to. . .

Wait, had she called him Marcus? So she really did-

"After you finally woke up Beckett decided to do a minor surgery - he didn't get all of one of the bullets on the first time; then he put you in a drug-induced coma for a couple days. Something about the bullet and your nerves- you know me and medicine. It's the one field -- well, besides the study of insects -- where the less I know about what's going on, the better." Anna grinned at him. "So how do you feel?"

Marcus laughed. "Well, considering the circumstances, I'm just fine and dandy. You?" He took a long look at her; the bruises on her face were an ugly greenish brown, her lip was almost split in half, and her right arm hung limply in its sling. She was beautiful.

"We're alive, aren't we?" She smiled. "Good enough for me."

"Yeah, we're alive."

The silence between them grew and Marcus glanced around the infirmary carefully. Good, no one within hearing range. Breathing deeply, he took her loose hand in his and told her to sit down. He knew she wouldn't -- couldn't -- say anything; not because she was shy or some stupid reason, but because he was her CO and, if things didn't work out, she would have more trouble and less chance of a career in - well, she probably wasn't going to be the one to be the subject up. Well then. . . now or never.

"Lieutenant -- Anna -- I know we agreed to just let things be. But back there, on that planet -- things changed." She opened her mouth to comment, but he held up his hand. "I've realized that there are more important things in life than being on Atlantis." He paused; she waited for him. "So I am asking you if - if you would be interested in seeing how we'd work out, I'm prepared to ask for a transfer to the SGC or a resignation if need be."

She pursed her lips and sat back, and Marcus wondered whether she could tell he was holding his breath. It was up to her, now. He could only hope she-

"I appreciate your offer, sir, and I would like a day to think it over if that's all right with you."

He let out a slow breath. All right, so she wasn't ecstatically jumping into his arms, but then again, the Schweinsteigger he'd fallen in love with wouldn't do that right now. No, she would smile at him, think it over, and either come up with some strange plan out of left field or agree with him. Well, unless she said no. But that - that was best left unthought of until later.

He smiled at her. "No problem, lieutenant. Just remember - don't keep a major waiting too long."

"When I see one, I'll be sure to-" she stopped at his puzzled expression, then giggled. "So you don't know? You mean they haven't told you yet? Sheppard didn't tell you the. . ."

Marcus shrugged. Maybe the good doctor had given her the wrong pain meds - because right now she looked like she was going to explode, though he couldn't tell whether she was laughing or going hysterical. He raised an eyebrow as she calmed herself.

"Well, apparently the upper brass were, wonder of wonders, impressed by Sheppard and our little mission. So much so that they made Sheppard a full colonel. No more lieutenant for him."

Marcus let out a laugh. "Good for him - can't wait to see him next time he goes up against Caldwell. But what does that have to do with --"

"They gave Rodney and Radek a pay raise, and they made Peters a major, too."

"Schweinsteigger, are you ever going to get to the-"

"In short, they gave everyone who went either a pay or rank promotion."

Marcus could have sworn the wheelchair he was lounging on fell out from under him. "'Tenant, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I told you exactly what I told you. . . Lieutenant Colonel Lorne." She grinned. "And you're going to have to find a new nickname for me, sir - although I don't know how you'll be able to shorten 'captain'."

He laughed and gave her a one-armed hug. Well, that would certainly help increase his chances of getting a transfer to the SGC. Now if he could just swing it so that-

"Sorry, sorry, my mistake!"

Marcus jerked his head up to see Rodney picking up the syringe packets he had just tipped over. Smiling, he looked up at Anna and backed his wheelchair up with his good hand.

"Now there is something I must do -- well, three things, actually, but those two can wait until later -- but one I have to before Beckett sends me back to bed." Wincing just a bit, he shoved his wheelchair forward, using the bed frame to propel himself. "So if you'll excuse me. . ."

He maneuvered himself over to Rodney and, tugging on the scientist's sleeve, muttered something in his ear.

Over in his office, Carson Beckett jerked awake and stared groggily at his computer. What was that-

"What do you mean, life-sign detectors? That's not a name, that's - that's a description." A pause. "You scientists: so unimaginative."

Carson listened to Rodney's squawks of protest and laughed. Oh yes, Lorne was back, and snarky as ever.

Seven, eight, nine. Stop.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Stop.

One, two, three, four-

"Pacing, hmm? Must be something important."

Anna sighed, ignored Katie, and continued pacing.

"See, I know you, and I know you only start pacing when you're trying to think something out."

Eight, nine, stop, one. . .

"Something important. Now what, I wonder, could be important enough to inspire pacing, but not important enough that you're discussing it with me or that lovely CO of yours."

Anna paused. "Don't you have anything better to do than torment me?"

Katie leaned back against one of the bridge supports, crossed her arms, and smiled smugly.

"Unless, of course, whatever you're trying to decide is of a secret, illegal or unethical nature, in which case you would simply come out here to the bridge and pace." She paused. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk it over? Two heads are better than one, after all."

Anna grumbled, sighed, and went to sit down next to Katie. She might be stubborn, but she could recognize common sense when she heard it.

"If, hypothetically, you had to choose between asking someone to give up a career or missing out on a relationship that would probably be worth it, what -- hypothetically, of course -- would you do?"

Katie didn't miss a beat. "Well, hypothetically, I imagine I would come out here, pace, and try to figure out some other way I could both let myself and this hypothetical person keep our hypothetical careers and yet pursue this hypothetical relationship."
Anna tapped her foot impatiently. Clearly, this was not helping. Maybe if she- no, that wouldn't work. Damn it.

"Of course, there could be another way." Katie smiled beneficently down at her. "Say, for example, a hypothetical friend of yours had foreseen this possibility, and oh, I don't know, talked to the civilian leader of the expedition concerning personnel issues. . . Of course, you understand this would require a bit of a sacrifice on your part."

"I'm listening."

Five long hours later Anna walked into the infirmary. Colonel Lorne was lying on his bed, flipping through a modern art magazine and munching on a carrot. He looked up when she approached, smiling at her.

"I thought you said you'd come back tomorrow." He said, his teeth showing in a feral grin.

"I thought you said you'd get some rest." Anna drew up a chair and sat down.

"So. . ." He looked hesitant, nervous. Poor thing. "What's up, captain?"

"Well," she started, suddenly nervous herself. What if he didn't take it well? No, he would. He had to, right? "Well, I'm afraid there's something I have to tell you."

His face fell, and she almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost.

"You're going to have to find a new nickname for me."

He looked so cute when he was confused. It was just too tempting.

"You know that new bit of legislation General O'Neill kept lobbying for - allowing military personnel to resign when they were promoted to captain. . ." She paused.

"What did you do?"

She swallowed. Well, there was no going back now, even if she had wanted to. "Katie Brown - you know her?"

Lorne nodded.

"Well, she talked to Dr. Weir yesterday about bringing some new linguists to Atlantis. Unfortunately, things being as they are, the screening process alone would take two to three years before we could hire them, and then they would have to be trained." She took a deep breath. "With all the studying and the work - you could call it an internship, really - I've done in the field since I came to Atlantis, I could viably complete my doctorate in a year and a half. Dr. Weir said she would be more than happy to have someone like me working on Atlantis in that capacity."

Lorne clutched her hand and jerked his head up, staring at her intently. "Schweinsteigger, what did you do?"

"There's no need to call me by my last name, sir." She smiled. "I turned in my resignation to Colonel Sheppard three hours ago, and he signed off on it."

His grip went slack.

"You -- you resigned."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because it was the only way this could work out, and you know that. The only other way would have been one of us transferring, and that would -- that just wouldn't work; we both love being on Atlantis too much." She grinned. "Besides, I'll still carry a P90 and go out with the teams - and I'll have better pay, too. Not to mention I won't have to take orders from you."

Marcus leant forward and took her hand in his. "You're sure? You won't regret this?"

She shook her head. "Miss the military, maybe. Regret it - not as long as I'm with you."

He moved his hand up, traced his finger along her face. "So a year and a half, huh?"

Anna nodded. "I leave with the Daedelus next Tuesday."

He smiled. "Well then," he said, smoothing her hair back and leaning forward so his face was inches from hers. "We'd best make the most of the time we have left, shouldn't we?"

She leaned forward and all the world around them faded.

It was -

- perfect.

The End